Under the Light of the Pallid Moon
by Blooregard Q. Kazoo
Summary: With the added emphasis on 'it', Nemo was sure that something terribly sad would be relayed to him that night -- so he listened carefully.


**UNDER THE LIGHT OF THE PALLID MOON**  
(Inspired by the deleted scene)  
**A**

**One-Shot**

**by**

**Blooregard Q Kazoo**

_All standard disclaimers apply_

* * *

The sky was a dull, dark color that never matched the beauty of the day. But it was beautiful in its own mysterious way. Sometimes, when the clouds above were few in number, an orb of glowing, white light gently moved with the rhythms of the ocean's outermost layer. The moon, it was called. And the moon's light brought forth something pushed to the dark corners of his mind.

Her.

Growing up without the watchful eye of a mother had left Nemo with a sense of deprivation. He could never fathom the enigma that was the maternal race, leaving him with an air of confusion among his peers. He knew he was the product of two individuals, but simple questions could sum up what he did not understand. What was she like? Why did the ocean take her away?

'Her' was the mother he never knew -- the mother he couldn't find.

He knew his mother's absence was the result of something tragic. He dared to question the matter once, but that inquiry was met with a face so crestfallen he could not bare to whiteness it again. His curiosities remained dormant, and soon they were forgotten. Life without a mother seemed natural.

Did his father think of her - when he saw the moon? He slowly turned his body to the side, noting how his father, sleeping soundly beside him, would detect his movements. Nemo averted his gaze from the ground to catch a quick glimpse. Marlin lay still on the floor of the anemone, his body framed by the waving tendrils that seemed to have a life of their own.

But he was not sleeping. He watched the moon, too.

"Daddy?"

Marlin flinched for a moment. Time would never heal his true nature, despite his best efforts. He would be frightened of little things throughout his life, even the abrupt voice of his own son, when it broke the calm, tranquil night air during a time of reflection.

"Nemo, you should be sleeping."

"What do you think of when you watch the moon?"

The inevitable discussion that would, at one point in time, eventually, and sooner or later, befall the small anemone. Like a speech that was written on paper prior to its audible form, the words were planned some many years ago. He readied himself for that single instant when Nemo would become curious. It was only natural that he would require the knowledge of his mother. She was his mother, after all.

But now that the situation was upon them, Marlin could not bring his proverbial cue cards into focus. Marlin's mouth moved, hoping to utter words that would stray the conversation elsewhere, but no sound came forward.

"It's OK, daddy, I can tell you don't want to talk about it."

Oh, he did not! But that melancholic voice sent a pang through his heart.

"No, it's all right. You should... know about 'it'."

With the added emphasis on 'it', Nemo was sure that something terribly sad would be relayed to him that night -- so he listened carefully. He listened carefully as his father explained the anemone by the dropoff, he listened carefully as he learned about the barracuda, and he listened carefully when the emotional edge of the story reached its peak, and Nemo did not want to listen any further.

It seemed that Nemo had not moved his body until the mention of a single egg. A single egg that narrowly escaped the certain demise that had befallen his brothers and sisters. Common sense left no room for thinking: He was the only child in the family. The egg was the only one remaining. A recollection, like a torrent of water, rushed to him.

_The world was painted in hues of red due to the fragile covering that he occupied. The thickness of the sticky mass blurred most of the objects around him, but one such shape was distinguishable among the others. Something black came toward him. He was scared at first, but the sudden sensation of being lifted gently, cradled, and spoken to softly eased the fears away..._

"And so I named you Nemo," his father finished.

"And that's when the ocean took mommy away?"

"_Yes, that's when the ocean took mommy away._"


End file.
